Starter Fluid

In Just a Car Crash Away, Marilyn Manson belts out one of the most gut-wrenching songes I’ve ever heard; the song defines the term.

Love is a fire
Burns down all that it sees
Burns down everything
Everything, you think burns down
Everything you say…

…So how can it be this lonely?
Is this all we get for our lives?
Is love only sweeter when one of us dies?

Chances are, you haven’t had a chance to hear the song. However, I’d encourage you to give it a listen in case you’d like to hear a different side of the antichrist superstar, who battled a broken heart like it was a terminal disease.

During the Winter, one of my favorite things to do is to light a big fire in the fireplace. Unlike most fireplaces, this one is open on both the front and the side, which does an incredible job of filling the room with heat – as well as ambiance.

Fires go through a lot of different stages. Similar to lighting a grill full of charcoal briquettes, which erupt in a large burst of flame before dying down to a more modest glow, a wood-burning fireplace will light up the room once it gets going.

After the fire burns for a while, the bright glow of a new fire is exchanged for the warm glow of burning embers, which effectively provide the heat that fills the room – and dries out your skin if you don’t put a pot of water in the fireplace.

In a lot of ways, love is like a fire. In most cases, romance feels a lot like coal-starting fluid, in that it flares high and bright for a very short period of time. A seasoned grill-master (which I am not) would tell you that this isn’t the time to throw your food on the grill; rather, you need to wait until the coals reach the appropriate temperature.

When I was younger, I used to look at my Dad while he lit the charcoals. Part of me wondered why he didn’t just keep spraying the starter-fluid on the coals. After all, more fire was good – right? Instead, he’d toss the match and watch as the flames flames flared up before dissipating enough to put the cover on the grille.

In a lot of ways, many of us go through the ‘starter fluid’ phase of our lives during our 20’s. Things are high and bright. As we get older, the ‘flames’ die down a bit and we put on the proverbial lid to our lives, allowing our coals to heat up and ready the grille for the food we’re going to cook. In this case, the food is the way we live our lives and the meal we eat is the lifestyle we enjoy.

Now that I’m 38 years-old, I’ve witnessed a lot of seasons come and go in my life. I had my rebellious teenage years, roaring 20’s and even party-animal phase. Each of these seasons had their time before passing into the next stage of my development being.

Sometimes you have to look back in order to appreciate the beautiful journey you’ve had. Other times, you find yourself running in the opposite direction. In my case, I lean more toward the latter as I look ahead ot what’s next.

Love is one of those things that transcends time and appearance. When I look at Atlas, I see a different type of love than the definition I once gave it in my life. For years, single parenting has worn me down physicaly, mentally and emotionally; far more in each of those spheres than I have ever given myself permission to share or admit, if I’m being transparent. However, the years have also been the best years of my life, and continue to be.

Many parents hope their children will somehow grow up and make the world a better place, yet aren’t ever around to see it take place when/if it happens. Today, I was able to get a crack in the doorway of the future Atlas will have.

Atlas and I had a play date with a friend of ours and her three children, going to a large indoor playground. One of the attractions offered is a little section where kids can ride battery-powered motorcycles around a track, which require the tap of a ‘play card’ in order to activate – loaded up by parents at the counter when they arrive.

There were a lot of kids pushing the motorcycles around the track, without any parents present to pay for the rides. Atlas took notice of this and ran up to me to ask for our play card. Handing it over to him, I watched as he entered the track and went to each motorcyle being pushed, tapping it with the play card so the kids could have a ride.

In less than a minute, the entire track was filled with children riding the motorcyces, rather than pushing them. Atlas beamed with joy as he continued to power up each of the motorcylces as all of the children lit up with joy when he came around.

This went on for nearly twenty minutes.

I watched the entire spectacle and was beaming with joy and pride at the generosity Atlas showed. I didn’t get a second thought about the cost of the rides; rather, it brought me joy to see him and all of the other children so happy.

During that moment, I felt as if I got a little glimpse of the type of person Atlas will be as he gets older. He’s not the type of child to just be interested in his own fun, he wanted to make sure that every other child was taken care of before he got on the back of his own motorcycle and took a ride.

Following the minature parade of motorcles, Atlas returned the card to my wallet and continued to play. A few minutes later, he asked for it again. Why? Because he wanted to go over to the claw machines and win a prize for his friend and little sister. One crocodile and ducky later, all three kids had a smile on their face.

I meet a lot of parents that like to brag about their children’s academic achievements, diplomas or letter jackets. Atlas has none of these. Rather, he has a generous heart and that’s the sort of heart that will make the world a better place – one tap at a time.